


nesting

by valety



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Other, POV Second Person, Pillow & Blanket Forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5210150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valety/pseuds/valety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asriel and Chara build a blanket fort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nesting

**Author's Note:**

> just something short and sweet to help me get through some angst I'm trying to write

Chara's being kind of bossy today, bossier than normal, but that's okay because today's idea is a really, really good one!

"We need to move that dresser," they say, kicking out their foot in the general direction of the piece of furniture they're talking about. They're standing on the edge of their mattress, bouncing slightly as they oversee your work, quilt hanging from their shoulders like a cape. It almost makes them look regal, despite their enormous cowlick. "Empty out the drawers too. We can use them as walls."

"I don't wanna have to fold everything again," you say. They frown at that, but they don't push, probably because you're still obediently clearing off the dresser itself and preparing to move it. 

"Is it heavy?" Chara asks as you begin to drag it across the floor. They don't ask if you need any help, but you can hear the underlying question all the same. You've gotten to be pretty good at picking up on all the things that go unsaid with Chara.

"Nah," you grunt. With one final tug, the dresser is in place across from your wardrobe. Satisfied, you place your hands on your hips and look back at them, grinning. "I'm pretty strong, you know."

Chara doesn't answer, but they look at you with approval and something in your stomach curls pleasantly. You like it when they look at you like that. You like it an awful lot.

They choose that moment to hop off their perch, landing on the carpet with a soft _thump_. Their cape flutters behind them. "Okay," they command, raising a hand to point at you dramatically. "Now get all the blankets and pillows you can find."

Their face is incredibly solemn despite the state of their hair and the ruddiness of their cheeks. They look ridiculous, honestly, and it's enough to make you want to throw your arms around them and _squeeeeze._ They look young for once, when usually they look much, much older than they really are, eyes dimmed and lined with shadows, haunted by whatever it is they've seen in their lifetime that they now refuse to talk about. But today they shine, and so you find yourself eager to do as they say.

'All the blankets and pillows you can find' doesn't turn out to be a whole lot, but Chara seems satisfied all the same. Once again they look at you approvingly, once again you feel your stomach flutter, and then the two of you get to work, piling and draping and bunching and folding.

By the time you're done, you have a blanket fort. It looks almost exactly the way you'd pictured it back when Chara had first suggested making one. It's so exciting that you're almost vibrating; you'd _never_ have thought to make a blanket fort on your own! It's so cool, like a secret hideout, and you're already so, so sad that you'll have to tear it down later.

Chara pushes aside the blankets and climbs into the fort. The blankets fall back into place, obscuring them from view, but a moment later a small hand pops through the curtain and beckons. Permission received, you climb inside as well.

You quickly notice that the fort is kind of dark and stuffy, but in a nice way. It reminds you of when you were younger and liked to play in piles of fresh laundry until your mother would catch you. There are mounds of blankets and lumpy pillows everywhere, and Chara is settled somewhere deep among them, reclining lazily.

"Good work," they say, and though it's too dark to see their face, you imagine that they're smiling at you. You smile back, hoping they can feel it somehow, before settling into the blankets as well..

It's so, so comfortable, like a nest of cotton and fluff, and you sigh happily, letting yourself sink into the softness. If you had a choice, you'd probably never want to get up.

"No good," Chara says abruptly, and your eyes snap open.

"No good?" you repeat. "What's wrong?"

You hear them shifting on their side of the nest, but you can't see what they're doing. It's only when you feel their hands fumbling near your feet that you realizing they're looking for you.

"There you are," they say, and you feel the pillows dip as they flop down beside you. They slump heavily against your side, draping an arm across your abdomen in something almost resembling a hug, and you grow very, very still.

In the dark, all your other senses seem magnified. You can feel the rise and fall of their chest, can hear the rhythm of their breathing, can smell the mild soap of the shampoo the two of you share. You don't move. If you do, they might pull away, and you'd like very much for them to stay exactly where they are.

"Sorry, As," Chara says after a moment. They're very clearly not even remotely sorry. "You're just so squishy. Better than any pillow."

"I'm not _squishy_ ," you protest, but it's a half-hearted protest.

Chara laughs. "Just shut up and let me nap on you," they say. "I'm sleepy." Their voice is partially muffled now as they bury their face in the sleeve of your sweater.

You're too tongue-tied to respond out loud, but you nod. You think they can probably sense that because they stay right where they are. They cling to you, and in the safety of the fortress you've built it's almost like the rest of the world has ceased to exist.

It feels _good_ to have them lean on you like this, you think. Sweet, and comfortable, like butterscotch pie or a toasty fire. Like everything will be all right. It makes you feel safe. It makes you feel loved.

You hope that Chara feels it too.

By now, your eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness for you to be able to make out their features. Their eyes are shut, their face still and vulnerable, and you're beginning to think that you kind of like them like this, actually. You like them when they're awake too, of course, because that's when they're at their loudest and funniest - heck, you like _every_ version of Chara - but this is one you've rarely seen, and it's...nice. It's nice that they trust you this much.

You lift your hand and place it on their tousled head, careful to keep your touch as feather-light as possible. Their hair is rough, but you begin to stroke it, smoothing it down as gently as you can.

Their eyelids flutter and you immediately remove your hand.

But then they murmur _keep going_ , and so you smile and continue stroking their hair.

* * *

That evening, a mother knocks at the door of her children's bedroom.

"It's almost time for supper, you two," she calls, but she receives no answer. Frowning slightly, she opens the door and steps inside, only to see that the furniture has been completely rearranged and covered in old sheets and quilts, forming a makeshift tent in the middle of the room.

She begins to chuckle, shaking her head, before striding forward and pulling aside the blanket that forms the door. Then she freezes.

Inside are her two precious children, curled around each other on a nest of pillows, a faint smile lighting both of their faces.

"Oh!" she whispers, bringing her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my goodness."

She lets the blanket drop.

Then she tiptoes out of the room - gently, so as not to disturb them - before softly calling down the hallway, "Lord Fluffybuns, could you bring me the camera?"

And so the children slept.

And for a while, at least, everything was okay.


End file.
